


Film | Reel

by FroldGapp



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Gen, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Movie Night, Paladins, Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-07 04:40:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12225957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FroldGapp/pseuds/FroldGapp
Summary: Friendship is a puzzle Keith can't seem to work out.





	Film | Reel

**Author's Note:**

> First approach at a story that then became Transmission Impossible. First posted on tumblr, and banking here.
> 
> British English so ' instead of ", etc.
> 
> S1/2ish before Lance and Keith hit their stride. :)

Snack wrappers, it turned out, were as annoying in space as they were on Earth. With every deafening rustle of the chip packet, Keith’s shoulders crept closer and closer to his sensitive ears. Naturally, it was Lance who tore into each and every packet with an aggressive vigour that recalled a sledgehammer trying to open a glass patio door. Though Hunk and Pidge were almost as bad. Shiro didn’t snack at all, opting instead for a greeny-brown health shake Coran made. Nothing confirmed the Black Paladin’s martyrdom as much as his willingness to indulge Coran’s efforts in the kitchen. **  
**

The paladins were arranged on the common room couches, all ready for the evening’s movie; a bizarre fantasy epic about sluglike creatures and their destiny to overthrow evil, humanoid creatures. Pidge translated the reviews using her pad. ‘Destroy the upright! They defecate sitting down!’ read one of the more colourful ones. The humour was lost on Keith, but he didn’t mind so much. He didn’t come to movie night for the pleasure of viewing anyway. Truth be told, he really liked the company. He was getting used to it.

Keith jumped when a large Pop! bounced off the common room walls.

‘Lance!’ he yelled, leaning past Shiro to glare at the Blue Paladin who glared back in turn, both palms pressed flat on either side of the packet he’d just exploded.

‘What Mullet?!’

Shiro slurped tiredly on his muck drink.

‘Do you have to be so damn noisy all the time?’

Lance made a face – presumably an attempt to parody Keith – and flapped his head from side to side, whining, ‘Do you have to be so noisy rawl the tam?’

Keith folded his arms. ‘That’s not what I sound like.’

Pidge snuck a glance at Hunk that suggested it very much so was.

‘Uh… yes, it does. Anyway, I don’t even know why you’re here. You always fall asleep, like, ten minutes into every movie and then ask a bunch of dumb questions near the end.’

A ragged growl jumped up the back of Keith’s throat. ‘I’ve literally never asked a single question about any movie.’

Lance thrust his head forward. ‘Yes, you have, Mullet,’ he said. ‘You ask with you ahs.’

‘That’s not how I say ‘eyes’!’ His voice cracked on ‘not’ and he ignored the little titter of amusement from Shiro to his right.

‘Movie’s starting!’ Pidge declared, punching her tab to start the film; the universe’s clunkiest attempt at diplomacy.

The lights dimmed, hiding Keith’s burning cheeks and quieting the group somewhat. The drinks kept slurping and the packets kept crunching, but after fifteen minutes or so it seldom seemed to matter anymore. With Pidge to his left and Shiro to his right, Keith settled into his little pocket of the couch. Another five minutes, and he’d tucked himself neatly against the solid warmth of Shiro’s broad arm, Pidge’s legs thrown messily across his own. She aimlessly played with the hair at the nape of his neck, and occasionally even deemed to pop candy into his mouth. He stared at the screen, eyes half-mast, as a familiar pulsing started in the space behind his eyes. Gold over black over gold over black; like looking through a car window as telegraph poles cut the sun into shadows. He smiled and closed his eyes, just for a moment.

Just for a couple of ticks.

‘Hey, Mullet!’

Keith gasped awake, almost scalping himself on Shiro’s chin. Lance was standing in front of him, arms folded and slippered foot tapping. By the silent audio speakers and mounting groans from the others, it was clear the film had been stopped for this special intermission.

‘Why are you sleeping?’

Keith picked up a pouch of space juice and sucked in a long, belligerent draught.

‘Just go to bed, Keith.’

He genuinely laughed at that, choking on juice as he replaced the pouch on the table behind Lance. ‘What? Why?’

Hunk threw his hands to his face and spoke through a groan. ‘Why do you even care, Lance?’

Lance huffed and rolled his eyes, when he spoke next it was with a tone one used when speaking to a particularly dull child. ‘Because he does this all the time. We watch a movie: he sleeps. We play a game: he sleeps. We go for a picnic on a babe-rich planet: he sleeps (which isn’t so bad I suppose). He slept at that concert the Hyvens threw us like last week.’

Pidge snorted. ‘Lance you hated that concert. You said it sounded like a Chamber Orchestra of Butts.’

‘Okay, a: it did, and b: if I keep getting called out for not focusing, I don’t see why Keith gets to sleep through entire diplomatic occasions.’

Keith made to protest but Shiro hushed him with a raised hand. ‘It’s just a movie, Lance.’ He nudged Keith’s shoulder with his own. ‘Let him sleep. What does it matter?’

Lance brought his hand to his chest with an appalled gasp. ‘What does it–?!’ He collected himself. ‘Movie night is a collective endeavour. The snacks, the Oos!, the Ahs!, Hunk scared crying, Pidge asking question after question only to have the movie answer them five seconds later… It’s a bonding exercise! Besides, he snores!’

‘I do not.’

Silence. Ah.

Pidge kicked Keith’s toes with her own. ‘You do snore. Sorry, Arm Fam.’

Heat rushed to Keith’s cheeks again, and he thrust himself to his feet, earning a squawk from Pidge as her legs were dislodged. He met Lance nose to nose. ‘Fine!’ he barked, though he knew with absolute certainty he didn’t want to be yelling right now. Humiliation hammered on his sternum and his legs shook with the sudden need to get out.

‘Keith.’ Shiro. Calm and deliberate always. ‘It doesn’t matter if you dose off, Keith. Come on…’

‘“Don’t be like that.” I get it,’ Keith interrupted. He shouldered past Lance, who stumbled awkwardly into the low table behind him, and stalked up the stairs, throwing a wave over his shoulder. ‘Enjoy your movie,’ he said to a chorus of protests from the others.

 

The corridors stretched on forever as Keith charged back to his room, fighting down the lump in his throat. When he finally reached his door, his eyes were stinging, his vision blurred. The door hissed shut behind him. He sat on his bed. He stood. He strode to the bathroom, ran the tap, washed his face off with chilling water. Sat on the bed again. Stood. Climbed out his clothes, his tee damp with sweat. His jeans caught on his right ankle and he roared as he tore them free and flung them to the ground. He stormed back into the bathroom and yanked on the shower. Yanked it off again. He brushed his teeth and ignored the thin string of blood that swirled into the plughole. Again, he turned on the shower and stepped inside. At last, with a messy sputter, he cried.

‘Stupid,’ he muttered, pressing his forehead to the cool, ungiving wall. ‘Stupid, stupid, stupid.’

Shower finished, Keith tottered to bed on numb legs. He fell on top of the covers, naked and still soaking wet. He closed his eyes, but the fight was still fresh in him, and he knew he wouldn’t sleep now, far away from the warmth of the others.

**Author's Note:**

> Get at me: https://froldgapp.tumblr.com


End file.
